Chapter 9: The Baroness’s Summons, the Echo of Dieppe’s Blades

The knightly domain of Ressarit lay in Boulogne, and its liege lord was Count Louis of Flanders. At that time, the tale of the French knights’ daring countercharge during the naval Battle of Sluys had already spread far and wide. This had earned him immense honor and renown on the battlefield. Thus, although this was not his direct domain, many local knights vouched for him. This enabled him to secure substantial loans from merchants—amounting to eight hundred gold écus. These funds allowed him not only to replenish his own equipment and warhorses but also to outfit Carlo and Roberto with new gear.

Ressarit was fully armored, with protective plates covering his shoulders and limbs. His helmet bore a hinged visor shaped like a long snout, perforated for breathing. Over his armor, he wore a short leather surcoat embroidered with his family’s crest—a silver sea eagle set against waves of deep blue and white. His warhorse was equally well-equipped, with a plated headpiece and chainmail draping its flanks. Notably, the magnificent steed alone was valued at two hundred gold coins—an exorbitant price for a horse trained to bite, kick, and trample foes.

He owned three horses: a magnificent warhorse, another for carrying equipment, and a third for everyday riding. His primary weapon was a longsword hung on his left side, while on his right hung a short dagger known as the "Mercy Knife," used to relieve the suffering of those mortally wounded. When mounted, he also carried a ten-foot lance and a small iron shield.

Carlo and Roberto, too, looked transformed. They wore metal helmets, steel gauntlets, and padded jacks studded with iron rivets—resembling modern bulletproof vests. Each bore a longsword, and their other weapons were fully supplied. Carlo felt that, for the moment, the Genoese crossbow suited him best, so he always kept it close at hand.

Over time, the number of knights and warriors gathering at the French camp in Dieppe swelled. Leadership shifted from Viscount Arc to Countess Jeanne of Eu. In the early sixth century, the ancient Salic Law of the Franks forbade women or female descendants from inheriting land. However, by the latter half of that century, King Chilperic of the Franks had issued a decree amending the Salic Law, allowing a deceased man’s land to pass to his daughter if he left no heirs, rather than reverting it to the commune or royal house.

By 1340, the tradition of monogamous marriage had endured for over a millennium in Europe, and monarchs generally adhered to it. Although illegitimate children existed, they lacked inheritance rights, often resulting in female heirs assuming estates. Thus, even regarding the French crown, until 1316, no woman had ever been legally excluded from the line of succession, despite historical absence of female rulers in France.

Moreover, all fiefs could be inherited by women, even the most powerful duchies. Throughout Europe, the presence of queens, duchesses, and countesses was commonplace. It was no wonder the renowned Habsburg family thrived on strategic marriages—a hereditary craft—conquering Europe by wielding their lower half as a secret weapon.

For Carlo, these external changes held little sway. He devoted himself wholeheartedly to practicing swordsmanship with Ressarit. The legend of the Paladin Roland greatly captivated him, though Carlo believed such tales were surely exaggerated. Yet, there was no denying Roland’s formidable power. In this era, Carlo understood that without great martial strength, one could hardly protect others, much less oneself.

Though he had yet to grasp what exactly he sought to protect or why he had come to this world, the memories of past battles remained vivid as if they had just happened. These compelled him to strive relentlessly to grow stronger. Each time he swung his sword, a strange sensation stirred within him, as if another force was awakening inside, accompanied by a voice echoing faintly in his heart—both familiar and strange. At times, he felt his figure silently merge with the towering silhouette of Roland across the folds of time. Yet, when he focused, only sweat fell onto the dust.

Ressarit was genuinely pleased with Carlo’s efforts. In this age, it was only natural for knights to train their squires. He hoped Carlo would become a just and powerful knight under his tutelage. Roberto, witnessing Carlo’s dedication, found his own resolve strengthened and practiced his swordsmanship diligently. Earlier that year, failing to protect his cousin had weighed heavily on him, as they had been captured. He longed to shield his cousin and grow stronger, yearning for the day he could return to Florence with Carlo.

“Aunt Adriana must be terribly worried,” Roberto often thought, his eyes filled with deep concern and guilt. He understood the aunt’s love for his cousin and the burden he bore.

On a broad training field bathed in sunlight, shimmering golden light scattered about. A gentle breeze stirred the dust. The three stood in a line as Ressarit began instructing on the fundamentals of swordsmanship. “First, place your feet shoulder-width apart, lean slightly forward to maintain balance. Grip the sword firmly; your wrist must be flexible but never slack.”

He spoke while demonstrating the standard stance. Roberto and Carlo imitated closely, adjusting their posture. Roberto asked, “Lord Ressarit, how can one improve swordsmanship swiftly?”

Ressarit answered gravely, “Only through constant practice and real combat. Experience gained in battle, reflecting on one’s shortcomings—that is how progress is made.”

They then commenced sparring. Side by side, Carlo and Roberto stood firm, eyes resolute, longswords gripped tightly, radiating fierce determination. They exchanged a glance, seeing in each other a shared resolve and courage.

“Today, we wish to challenge Lord Ressarit together,” Carlo whispered.

Roberto nodded vigorously in agreement. “Indeed, let us give our all and prove our strength.”

Not far off, Ressarit stood tall, his longsword gleaming coldly in the sunlight. Seeing their spirit, a faint smile of approval curved his lips. “Come, you two lads. Show me what you’ve learned.”

Carlo and Roberto stepped forward simultaneously, exchanging a knowing look before swiftly splitting to attack from different angles. Carlo moved with agility, his sword tracing a graceful arc aimed at Ressarit’s vital points. Roberto was steady and forceful, his strikes fierce and relentless.

Ressarit’s eyes sharpened; he easily sidestepped Carlo’s attack and parried Roberto’s powerful blow with a sword swing. The clash of metal echoed across the training ground, ringing painfully in the ears.

“Not bad. Progress, but not enough yet,” Ressarit commented.

Unfazed, Carlo and Roberto quickly recovered and launched renewed assaults. Carlo fluidly shifted his attack angles, his swordplay flowing like clouds and water. Roberto supported him, seeking openings from the side to apply pressure.

“Focus on coordination; do not fight separately,” Ressarit advised while defending their strikes.

Heeding his words, the two worked in greater harmony, their sword moves complementing each other—feints followed by true strikes.

In the intense sparring, Ressarit displayed strength far beyond theirs. His movements were smooth as flowing clouds, each swing imbued with powerful precision. Facing dual attacks from different directions, he evaded their blades with astonishing speed and dexterity.

When Carlo’s blade flashed like lightning, Ressarit tilted his head slightly, the sword blade narrowly grazing his ear. Then, with a subtle wrist twist, he redirected Carlo’s sword aside using the back of his blade. Roberto pressed from the flank, but Ressarit seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, swiftly turning to block the attack with pinpoint accuracy.

The sheer force of Ressarit’s strikes left Carlo and Roberto in awe. On one occasion, they swung their swords simultaneously at him. Gripping his sword with both hands, Ressarit parried with such force that the impact pushed them back several steps, their arms tingling from the shock.

“You must work even harder,” he said steadily, his gaze full of expectation. “There are no shortcuts to mastering the sword—only endless practice and combat.”

On the training field, sword shadows intertwined and figures darted about. Their fierce and splendid skirmish drenched their clothes with sweat, but they were wholly absorbed in the exercise.

Carlo and Roberto understood that only through relentless challenge and honing could they become truly strong.

“Ding ding ding... dong—dong—” The bell tower of Dieppe sounded a deep, resonant call. The pattern of three short and two long chimes was the agreed signal for assembly by Countess Jeanne of Eu.